


Stripped

by Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bones, Espionage, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misunderstandings, Secret Agent Jim, Strip Tease, True Lies AU, mckirk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2337011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin/pseuds/Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot Strip fic that's an AU twist on the strip scene from the movie True Lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stripped

**Author's Note:**

> My original intention was to write this as a fun, smutty scene that involved Bones stripping for Jim, but it evolved into something deeper and more angsty (and longer) than I was really originally prepared for. But please rest assured that there is still copious amounts of smut. Please enjoy ^_^

Jim Kirk shifted in the plush arm chair he’d situated a shadowed corner of a darkened hotel room as a deluge of heavy rain pelted against the window behind him, readjusting his grip on the small voice recorder in his hand. He couldn't remember the last time he’d felt so nervous-- the kind of nervous where there seemed to be a cage full of caffeinated butterflies lodged deep in his chest. In the ten years he had worked for the CIA he’d been in countless firefights with ruthless terrorists all over the world, had infiltrated some of the most heavily guarded KGB strongholds known to the US government, had parachuted from a goddamn helicopter into hostile territory, and even then he didn’t feel half as edgy as he did now. Because now he wasn’t dealing with some life-threatening enemy; now he was dealing with his own husband.

Jim swallowed back a groan and shifted again. This had all seemed like such a good idea when he’d first thought of it. Bones wanted more excitement in his life. That had been made clear enough when Jim had found out his husband had been caught in a more than compromising situation with a damn used car salesman who had been posing as a secret agent. And here was Jim, an _actual_ secret agent, who had kept that secret a little _too_ well, keeping up the appearance that he was a computer programmer all the seven years he and Bones had been married, covertly fulfilling his duty to his country while his husband’s interest slipped farther and farther away, so slowly that Jim had hardly noticed it happening. Until Jim had learned that Bones had met that goddamn _fake_ for lunch and Jim’s own blinding jealousy had landed his husband in a CIA interrogation room on the wrong side of the one-way glass with Jim peppering him relentlessly with questions over the voice distorting speakers.

Bones had answered each and every question, glaring at the glass with an angry scowl deepening the lines on his face and unshed tears glittering harshly at the corners of his eyes, never knowing his own husband had been the one interrogating him. He believed only that he was being detained for being caught up in a maelstrom of espionage and for his involvement with the man he’d met for lunch, whom he’d still thought was a secret agent.

As weary and frightened and angry as Bones seemed to be, standing alone in that interrogation room in his rumpled shirt and disheveled hair, he’d answered all of Jim’s questions evenly. He’d owned up to the fact that, _yes_ , he had met a man for lunch-- a man who had pleaded for his help in posing as a couple so as not to arouse suspicion on his next field mission. He’d owned up the the fact that, _yes_ , he had seriously considered accepting the man’s proposition, if only because it felt good to actually be needed of once in his damn life. And, _yes_ , it felt really fucking _good_ to do something exciting and a little reckless.

But when Jim had questioned Bones’ fidelity with that flare of jealousy and dread still burning hotly deep within him, Bones had stilled, dragging his gaze up from his knotted hands, centering his eyes on his reflection in the mirrored glass, a single tear tracking down his cheek.

“No,” he’d answered, scrubbing the tear away roughly, “I did not sleep with him.”

And still Jim had pressed, hating himself but needing to know for certain. “You didn’t have _any_ sexual relations with him?”

It had been enough to finally push Bones over the edge. He’d charged up to the mirror, beating his fist against the glass, enraged. “I. Did. Not. Sleep. With. Him!” he’d cried, punctuating each word with a jarring thump of his fist. “How many times do I have to answer the same fuckin’ question?!”

Jim had flinched back from the glass, nearly to the point of tears himself; tears of solace and self-loathing. “I have only one more question for you,” he’d said after a moment.

Bones had stepped back, panting and dropping his hands to his sides, defeated. “What?” he'd rasped out.

Jim had taken a deep breath, leaning in toward the microphone, feeling the monumental weight of his next question weigh heavily on his chest. “Do you still love your husband?”

Bones had quieted, looking down at his hands and absently twisting the silver band encircling his ring finger. “Yes,” he’d answered softly.

“Louder, please,” Jim asked, not entirely sure he’d heard him right.

Bones had looked up, leveling a frank and open stare at the glass. “I love him,” he’d said firmly. “I have always loved him and I _will_ always love him.”

Relief had flooded through Jim then, relief and a heady rush of shame at prodding his husband so viciously. It was then that the idea had hit him. If excitement was what Bones wanted, Jim could surely give him that and do it a hell of a lot better than some fucking used car salesman. He had told Bones that he’d be released if he agreed to work for the Agency on a little ‘assignment’-- one that Jim had no intention of telling the Agency about at all. On the spur of the moment he tasked Bones with making contact with a suspected arms dealer and planting a bug on the man's phone in his hotel room, posing as a prostitute in order to gain access.

Bones’ head had whipped up then, the color draining from his tired face, one eyebrow arched. “Do I have to…” He’d let the sentence fall away in a wave of apprehension.

Jim was quick to answer, knowing he’d be the only person sharing that room with Bones, but wanting to put Bones at ease. “No,” he’d replied, “He likes to watch. You’ll say his regular liaison, Kyle, is sick. Plant the bug on the telephone before you leave or you will have failed your mission.”

Bones had nodded his understanding solemnly and now here Jim found himself, sitting uneasily in a luxuriously appointed hotel suite with a voice recording he’d commissioned from another agent at the office under the guise that it was for a mission, because just as he’d recognize Bones’ unique southern cadence anywhere, Jim knew Bones would recognize _his_ voice without question. Nervousness continued to course through him as he waited for Bones, acutely aware that if this didn’t go as planned there was a good damn chance that his husband would be lost to him forever.

Jim did his best to quell his anxiety when he heard the door open and saw a shaft of light spill into the room from the hallway before it was quickly swallowed up by shadow again as the door was closed.

Bones stepped into view, the rain drenched moonlight that was filtering in through the picture windows bracketing him perfectly in a silvery glow. Jim felt his breath lodge in his chest at the sight of his husband. Bones’ normally neatly combed hair was a mussed sexy tousle and he wore a simple pair of black slacks with a white button-up tucked into the waistband. The first button of the shirt was undone under a loosened black tie and a few dark curls of chest hair peeked over the open collar. Jim swallowed against a suddenly dry throat.

Bones stepped farther into the darkened room that was already thumping out a low pulse of music that Jim had set up on the speakers. Jim quickly pressed play on the recorder in his hand before he got too close. “I’m here,” a deep male voice said and Bones stopped walking, peering into the shadows.

“I’m Leo,” he said, awkwardly putting a hand up on his hip. “Kyle’s sick so I’m here to fill in for--”

Jim pressed play again. “Let me do the talking.” Bones swallowed visibly and nodded. “Start by getting undressed.”

Bones nodded again and began tugging his tie off with jerky, unsteady movements.

“No, no, no,” the recorded voice said, “Do it slowly.”

Bones’ long fingers slowed over the knot of the tie and undid it gradually, slipping the silky strip of fabric from his neck and tossing it to the floor. His hands then found the buttons on his shirt, popping them open seductively, exposing inch after inch of his toned chest as he went. He tugged the hem from the waistband at his hips and let the shirt fall from his shoulders. A sparse thatch of dark hair covered Bones’ chest and travelled down his torso to disappear in a thin line under his trousers. Jim had always loved to scratch his fingers through that coarse hair, but found with appall that he couldn’t remember the last time he had actually done it. Had he really been so caught up in his job that Bones had fallen that far by the wayside?

Bones continued undressing, effectively drawing Jim’s focus back to him. His hands, those gracefully skilled hands, skittered over his belly as they made their way to his belt buckle and Jim’s breath hitched in his chest. His dick, already well on its way to full hardness, pressed thickly against the inside of his pants and he bit back a moan as Bones deftly unbuckled his belt and flicked open the button on his trousers. He drew down the fly slowly, keeping his hazel eyes locked on Jim’s shape in the darkened corner.

Jim’s heart jackhammered against his rib cage and a spurt of precome leaked from his cock, soaking into the front of his boxers as he watched Bones bend at the waist while hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, pulling them down his narrow hips and over the luscious curve of his ass. He toed off his shoes and trousers, kicking them to the side before straightening.

He stood before Jim in nothing but a tight pair of black boxer-briefs and moonlight, awaiting his next instructions with his hands timidly clasped together in front of his crotch as his pulse hammered wildly at the base of his throat.

Aching desire flushed through Jim and he shifted in his chair, clearing his throat. He wanted nothing more than to launch himself across the room and taste every glorious inch of that tanned skin. He instead fumbled for the play button on the recorder with trembling fingers. “Now dance for me,” the recorded voice said.

Bones began to dance with uneven, awkward movements as if it had been years since he had last danced; and indeed it had been-- Jim thought the last time he’d seen Bones dance was at their wedding and that realization left him feeling bereft and lacking, which only fueled that desire to change it, to _fix_ it before it was too late.

The sound of the rain hitting the windows punctuated the languidly heavy thump of the music playing around them as Jim pushed play on the recorder. “Slowly. Let your hands be your lover’s hands lingering across your skin,” the voice instructed gently.

Bones let his eyes flutter closed and brought his hands up, dragging them across his chest and stomach as his body began to move in tune with the throbbing music. Jim’s eyes were instantly riveted to his husband as Bones began to roll his hips forward, his fingers glancing over his skin, pinching at his nipples, before travelling down his stomach again, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. His belly jumped inward at his own touch and his mouth fell slack when his hand dipped below the waistband of his underwear for a moment before he drug his palms back up his sides. He opened his eyes slowly after a moment and he bent forward, enticingly pushing his ass into the air. Jim hooked a finger in the collar of his shirt, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

Bones jerked back up, tangling his hands in his dark hair, sweeping his head from side to side to the beat of the music then tugging them down the sides of his neck as he continued to pump his hips forward. The muscles in his thighs bunched with each controlled thrust.

Jim’s gaze travelled greedily over Bones’ body, taking in every single detail, and he very nearly came in his pants when Bones’ hands skimmed down to cup his hardening cock through his boxer-briefs as he swayed seductively. Jim groaned low in his throat before he could stop himself and quickly pressed play on the recorder, feeling his self-control slip farther and farther from his grasp.

“Now lie on the bed and close your eyes,” the voice said in a measured evenness that Jim knew he would never had been able to produce, not with how his whole body seemed to be trembling with an electric current of want.

Bones’ dancing movements slowed and his hands fell to his sides. “I thought you only liked to watch.”

Jim felt a moment of panic and quickly rewound the recording and pressed play again. “Lie on the bed and close your eyes,” the voice repeated.

Bones nodded haltingly and made his way to the king sized bed in the middle of the room, laying down and closing his eyes obediently. He fidgeted uneasily, his hands finding the bedspread on either side of him and digging his fingers into the soft material, as Jim got up from the chair and stepped up beside the bed.

Jim’s heart thudded heavily, each beat pushing more blood down to his already engorged cock, and he reached out, his fingers vibrating with anticipation as he feathered just the tips down the bridge of Bones’ nose to his plush lips. Bones’ mouth opened under the touch, panting out a hot breath against Jim’s fingers and Jim’s aching dick spasmed eagerly. His fingertips continued to trail down Bones’ heated and flushed skin--over his chin, his throat, his chest-- all the way down to the elastic waistband of his tented underwear. He began to tug the boxers down and Bones’ eyes suddenly flew open.

“No. Stop. I - I can’t do this,” he said desperately, sitting up and scrambling back against the headboard.

Jim’s heart plummeted and he reached his hands out. "Wait, Bones, wait. It's me"

Bones flinched back from Jim’s outstretched hands before recognition dawned across his face. "Jim? Jimmy?" His voice shook with confusion.

Jim nodded pitifully and sat down on the bed facing Bones, who was still pressed up against the headboard. “Yeah. Let me just--"

Bones wide eyes narrowed in mistrust and lingering bewilderment. "What the _fuck_ is going on here?"

"Listen, Bones, I can explain," Jim began, his heart thundering painfully, his control of the situation slipping right through his damn fingers.

Bones cut him off again. "Did you plan this whole thing?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"So the arms dealer, buggin’ the phone? None of this was real?"

Jim licked his lips nervously. "Not exactly, but I --"

Bones crossed his arms over his bare chest. "So what in the hell was the point of all this?"

"Goddammit, Bones! Would you just let me talk for five damn seconds?" Jim exploded. "I fucked up, okay?" He raked a hand roughly through his hair and huffed out an exasperated sigh. “You said you needed more excitement in your life. I was just trying to give you what you wanted."

Bones stared at him in disbelief. Jim could practically _hear_ the wheels turning in his head, realizing Jim had been the one interrogating him.

"And you thought _this_ is what I wanted?" Bones asked, his voice pitched low, darkly incredulous.

Jim swallowed hard. _Fuck, how had this gotten so out of hand?_  "I- I just..." he paused, dragging in a shuddering breath. "I don't know _what_ you want anymore, Bones. That's the thing. You've slipped away from me and I just let it happen." He looked down to his hands in his lap. "Why did I just let it happen?" he asked himself in a broken whisper.

The threat of tears pricked hotly at the back of his eyes as he looked back up to his husband. "I don't want to lose you, Bones," he pleaded. "Please tell me what to do and I swear I'll do it."

Bones was quiet for a seemingly endless stretch of time and Jim began to feel, with an agonizing certainty, that maybe he’d already lost him for good.

When Bones finally spoke, Jim had to blink away the tears crowding his eyes to bring him back into focus. “Dammit, Jim,” he said on a heavy sigh, “All you had t'do was ask me. You never just _ask_ me anymore.”

Jim sniffled and ran the back of his hand under his nose. “Ask you what?”

Bones’ eyebrows drew together and he gave Jim a sad smile. “Ask me what I want, or how I want it, or even how my damn day was. You’re so caught up in your own head most of the time, I feel like you don’t see me anymore, even when I’m standin’ right in front of you.”

A staggering mixture of understanding and guilt and regret engulfed Jim in a nearly overwhelming wave and he blinked in surprise, taken aback. Because wasn’t Bones completely fucking correct? Jim would come home exhausted and depleted and sore from being in one firefight or another and would often times pass out as soon as he crawled into bed, and that was if he was able to come home at all-- some missions would call him away for days at a time. It was a goddamn wonder Bones had stayed _this_ long. What had Jim ever done in his life to deserve a man like that?

He pulled in a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, feeling that chilled nervousness from earlier creep back into his gut. He knew he was on a knife’s edge; one slight misstep could lead to irreparable and catastrophic damage. “So, what do you want?” he asked softly, carefully.

A sideways grin tugged at Bones’ mouth, crinkling up the corners of his eyes. “You, darlin’," he replied simply, "Only you.”

Relief flooded through Jim in a great shattering rush and he lurched forward on the bed, his sole desire in that moment being the embrace of his husband. Bones met him in the middle, grabbing onto him tightly and smashing his mouth up against Jim’s in a hungry, needful kiss. It was a rough thing, full of a long unrequited yearning that Jim damned himself viciously for putting off for too long. _Never again_ , he swore, tugging Bones onto his lap with a low growl rumbling out through his chest. Bones complied eagerly, spreading his thighs over Jim’s hips and bringing his hands up to frame Jim’s face. He drove his tongue into Jim’s open mouth, licking between his teeth and bottom lip, bringing Jim’s cock back to a full hardness within a matter of seconds, and from the rigid nudge against his stomach, it seemed Bones was having the same reaction.

Jim’s hands roved over Bones’ naked back, feeling his muscles bunch and tighten as he ground down on Jim’s lap. He glided his touch lower down to Bones’ ass, kneading and squeezing the firm clothed flesh hard enough to make Bones shudder and moan into his open mouth.

Bones pulled back slightly, his pupils blown wide with desire as he panted raggedly. “ _Fuck_ , Jimmy,” he rasped in an undeniable tone of awe.

Jim flashed him a predatory grin. “Oh, I intend to,” he replied, leveraging Bones backward onto the soft bed with the ease of years and years of military training. Bones hit the mattress with a surprised grunt, his eyes wide and dark in the dim room. Moonlight continued to spill in through the windows, settling softly across Bones’ skin and frosting the tips of his tousled hair-- he had never looked more gorgeous.

Jim wasted no time in crawling over him and crushing his mouth against Bones’, pulling in long, deep tastes of him, eating up the muffled groans that escaped from his throat. He reached one hand between them, stroking and rubbing Bones’ hardened dick through his briefs against his own clothed erection as the other reached to the nightstand beside the bed, fishing a bottle of lube out of the drawer. He pulled back from Bones’ mouth, his pulse roaring in his ears as he held up the bottle and gave it a little shake.

Bones smiled up at him breathlessly. “Guess you thought of everything, didn’tcha?”

Jim could only nod before dipping down to press lingering kisses along Bones’ chest and belly, tasting the faint brine of perspiration that sheened across his skin. Bones panted and moaned, his hands finding Jim’s hair and fisting into the strands as Jim continued to mouth and nip his way down to the waistband of Bones’ underwear. He straightened up on his knees, still fully clothed even down to his shoes, and tugged Bones’ briefs down and off in one efficient pull, causing his cock to spring free and bob up toward his belly.

Jim hooked Bones’ knees over his shoulders, locking his eyes on his husband’s as he popped the cap on the lube, coating his fingers generously before curling forward toward Bones’ plump and leaking cock. Bones craned his neck up, never taking his eyes off Jim as his mouth descended down. Jim grasped onto the base of Bones dick, guiding it to his lips, his other hand, fingers slick, made its way to the cleft of Bones ass, probing first one finger, then two into the tight but accepting ring of muscle as he swallowed down as much of Bones’ length as he could without gagging. He buried his nose in the coarse dark hair that ringed the thick base, scenting deeply when he finally managed to choke it down entirely.

Bones gasped and bucked beneath him, his hands scrabbling for Jim’s hair again, tugging painfully. Jim moaned appreciatively around Bones’ dick as he continued working him open, scissoring his fingers into that wet heat, carefully adding two more digits, stretching, preparing, driving himself fucking senseless with need.

"Dammit, Jim, I ain't gonna be more ready than I am right now," Bones growled, jerking Jim’s head back impatiently.

Jim pulled off Bones' cock with a lurid slurp, smirking at how much thicker his accent had become the closer Jim coaxed him to the edge. It has been a long time since he'd had the pleasure of hearing it and he vowed never to deny himself the sound again.

“Is that what you think?” Jim asked a little teasingly, withdrawing his fingers from Bones’ lax hole. A shiver wracked through him at the sight of it-- open, slick, begging to be filled.

Bones sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall back against the pillows at the withdrawal of Jim’s fingers. “It’s what I fuckin’ _know_ , you unbearable bastard,” he groaned, his voice strained and tense.

Jim chuckled, pressing a kiss to Bones’ sweaty calf before gently lowering his legs to the bed, keeping his knees bent and planting his feet on the mattress on either side of Jim’s hips. Bones chest was heaving, his skin flushed, his rigid cock shiny with Jim’s saliva; he looked every bit as wrecked as Jim felt and they weren’t even _close_ to being finished, not with all that Jim had planned, not with all the lost time they had to make up for.  

He quickly began tugging his button-up shirt up from the waistband of his his pants, unzipping his fly, finally freeing his straining cock from the constraints of his clothing. His plan had been to undress completely but hurriedly, to lay out over Bones’ skin, to feel the glide and warmth of it against his own naked body, to take Bones apart in a slow, numbing meticulousness. But when Bones groaned again, letting his knees fall open, further bearing himself, Jim lost that last ounce of self-control he had been trying so desperately to hold onto, because Christ, it had been so fucking _long_. He jerked his pants down to his thighs with unsteady hands, not even bothering with his shirt, and sat back on his haunches, grasping onto Bones’ hips, tugging him close with a rough yank.

Bones wrenched his head up, his hands reaching and grabbing onto Jim’s shoulders tightly as Jim lined his cock up with Bones’ hole, pushing in fully with one indescribably satisfying thrust, seating his hips flush against Bones' thighs. Bones cried out, digging his fingers into Jim’s skin hard enough to bruise, his body accepting Jim’s just like it always had.

Jim tightened his grip on Bones’ hips, easing out and snapping forward again and again, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth against the overwhelming sensations of heat and friction and wholeness and acceptance surging through him with each brutal plunge. Bones gave as good as he got, pushing down on each of Jim's drives forward, angling his hips up for deeper penetration, fueling Jim harder and faster with each moan and whimper.

Jim looked down at his husband as he pumped into him, marveling again at how goddamn lucky he was to be able to say that he was his, humbled at how close he had come to losing him. And all at once there was too much space between them, far too fucking much. He moved his hands from Bones hips and slid them under his arched back, pulling him up bodily in one fluid motion and holding him close against his chest. Bones never missed a beat, slinging his arms around Jim’s neck, settling his knees down on the mattress to leverage his rises and falls on Jim’s cock, panting strained grunts into his ear when he buried his face in the crook of Jim’s neck.

Jim could feel the heat of Bones’ body seeping through his shirt, could feel the rasping chafe of his trousers cutting into his thighs each time Bones slammed down. A building tension coiled low in his belly, drawing his balls up tightly, punching the breath from his lungs. He groaned roughly and pressed biting kisses to Bones’ sweat-slicked shoulder, holding him tightly around his waist with one arm while the other snaked between them, wrapping his fingers around the straining length of Bones’ shaft. Bones shuddered against him, stuttering Jim’s name brokenly as Jim stroked in time to Bones’s suddenly erratic rises and falls.

“Only you, Jim,” Bones sobbed out, “Only you.” He slammed down onto Jim’s cock, coming over Jim’s fist in hot, sticky spurts.

Jim’s heart seemed to seize in his chest, so struck was he by the vast and welling love that Bones held for him. It was a love that had always been there, running quietly and constantly under the surface like a hidden current, a love that overshadowed and eclipsed everything. And how close had he come to letting it all go, even if he hadn’t even realized he had been doing it? _Never again_ , he swore to himself for the second time; never again would he take that for granted. He loved Bones with everything he was, with everything he was capable of giving, and he would work every fucking day to show him how fiercely devoted he was to what they had, what they were.

He held Bones close against his chest, his whole body tensing, as his release was ripped from him in a great shattering rush. He emptied into the spasming warmth surrounding his cock, crying out from the nearly unbearable ecstasy of it, an unstoppable litany of words tumbling from his mouth: _I love you Bones, I love you, I love you_ , repeating them until he was breathless. Repeating them until he slumped down on the bed, dragging Bones down beside him. Repeating them until he fell asleep with his husband in his arms that night and every night beyond that, never again taking any of it for granted.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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